


Thorns

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [30]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA V, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Pre-Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: So the thing about Los Santos is that unless you’re hot shit, you don’t want anyone to notice you. Or, you know. That’s what the sane people do, because anything else is asking to be horribly murdered.





	Thorns

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Anonymous who asked for Jerematt in the early days trying to stay under the radar. This is somewhat like that???
> 
> Also [because I love Ryan's dumb car.](https://vagrantblvrd.tumblr.com/post/167132645146/i-forget-which-video-it-was-in-but-ryan-driving)

So the thing about Los Santos is that unless you’re hot shit, you don’t want anyone to notice you. Or, you know. That’s what the sane people do, because anything else is asking to be horribly murdered.

End up as the filler story in between the crime of the day and the latest political scandal before they move on to sports because that’s how Los Santos works.

And when you _do_ get noticed, you want it to be for the right reasons. Stealing some big-name criminal’s car probably isn’t one of them.

“What the hell is this, Matt?”

Fucking hell, there’s a goddamned car in the warehouse the – they’re not really a gang or a crew. Just a bunch of idiots who happen to sometimes work together. No real leader because they kind of do their own thing, but a few of them look to Jeremy and Matt for advice because they happen to have their shit together a little more than anyone else.

“There’s a skull.”

Not a real one, or if it is, it belonged to the world’s tiniest human being because it’s about thee size of a baseball and all chromed up like any respectable hood ornament would be.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” Matt says, like he has absolutely no clue who the damn car belongs to.

And if this wasn’t Matt, stupidly smart Matt with the all the worst ideas crammed into his head, Jeremy might have believed that.

“Who did this?”

Matt shrugs and pops a handful of P’s and Q’s into his mouth. 

“Walter, I think? He seemed pretty proud of himself anyway.”

Walter is an _idiot_.

Jeremy looks back at the car.

It looks menacing in the spotty lighting, beautiful matte black finish and strong bones and they’re all going to die bloody when its owner comes looking.

“Is he dead?” Jeremy asks, because if that little idiot isn’t yet, he will be by the time Jeremy’s don with him. Far better than having the car’s owner stroll up. “Please tell me he’s dead.”

Matt shrugs points to where their fellow idiots are gathered around the old television someone got from a pawnshop.

When Jeremy goes over to have a chat with Walter, he has this vague plan in the back of his head. Some desperate hope they can get the car back to its owner without anyone being the wiser about its disappearance,but - 

“Dude, there you are!”

Chavez, from the way his voice breaks. Too young to be involved in this kind of shit, but here he is anyway. Someone’s little brother and usually the one to stay behind and oh dear _God_.

They’re watching the news, shaky camera phone footage from the look of it and oh, look, the crime of the day. One of the big-name crews robbing a bank and in the background is fucking Walter jacking a car.

Mean looking thing that looks like it should have been in one of those old eighties movies about set in an post-apocalyptic world. Running down innocents, crushing bones, that kind of thing.

Stupid Walter without a care in the world as he steals the car and drives off. Little black dot in the distance when the front of the bank goes up in a fiery explosion and figures come darting out. Pull up short because their getaway car is gone and _oh dear God._

“Well, shit,” Jeremy says, because there goes that plan.

“Dude,” Matt says, watching the figures on the television screen scrambling towards a soccer mom van parked down the road. “Sucks to be them.”

Jeremy glances at Matt, sees the little smirk he’s not bothering to hide, and wonders what he ever did to deserve any of this.

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, wishing he’d listened to his mom and gone into a respectable line of work after high school. Learned a trade, anything other than this, because he probably would have lived longer if he had. “Poor bastards.”

========

Jeremy makes the mistake of having Matt contact the car’s owner. Let the guy know that it’s all a misunderstanding and there’s no need for murder because they’ll give him his car back without any trouble on their part.

“Matt,” Jeremy sighs, as he reads over his shoulder, too late to stop him. “Why are you like this?”

And Matt.

“What?”

Matt is an asshole, because the message he sent reads like a ransom note instead of the groveling they should be doing. 

“’Come alone?’” Jeremy mutters, like the car’s owner wouldn’t be able to murder the hell out of the entire crew without breaking a sweat. “Are you serious right now, Matt?”

He is, though, because it’s Matt and Jeremy knows Matt too fucking well. Knows he thinks this whole situation is hilarious like they don’t stand to be horribly murdered for stealing the wrong damn car.

“Okay,” Jeremy sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Okay. So. You stay here and keep an eye on these idiots, and I’ll - “

“No.”

“...Matt.”

“Fuck you, no,” Matt says, like he’s disagreeing with Jeremy about what flavor chip is the best and not, you know. Not fucking _this_.

“I don’t have time to argue with you,” Jeremy says, because the meeting time they set to return the car is a few hours away and Jeremy wants to get there early. Make sure he’s not walking into an ambush. 

“That’s good then,” Matt says, and smiles, all nice and pleasant and this underlying steel to it. “Because I’m not arguing.”

========

The meeting pace is this conveniently shadowy construction site. Some new building they’ve been working on for what seems like years without any progress being made.

Matt said there’s some kind of contract dispute, so the crews working on it haven't been around for a few weeks and the padlock chain on the fence around the site is easy enough to pick.

It’s just the two of them because Jeremy doesn’t want the other idiots involved in this more than they already are. Hopes like hell the car’s owner won’t get all curious about some dumb car thief even though he knows the chances are slim he doesn’t know everything by now.

“On your left,” Matt says, sounding serious for the first time since Jeremy saw the car. 

Jeremy’s not the kind to scare easily when it comes to this line of work. Doesn’t shy away from the ugliness of it, but he’s not completely stupid, Knows when he’s in over his head and does his best to avoid those kinds of situations because he’s got Matt to think of. The idiots who aren’t really a gang or a crew and more like misfits without anywhere else to go. 

And this - 

“Uh,” Jeremy says, palms sweating. “So there was a misunderstanding.”

He knows it’s not a real skull looking back at him. Knows it’s a stupid mask, but in the shadows like this, his own fear clawing at the back of his mind, it’s easy to imagine it could be in a city like this.

“Oh?”

The voice isn’t what he was expecting, smoother, deeper. _Not_ something that belongs to some demonic creature from a horror movie, which is a bit of a relief. 

Confidence to it too, like he knows who’s running the show here. That Jeremy’s barely more than a dumb kid trying to keep his head above water here in Los Santos. 

“Yeah,” Jeremy says, tries to put a little pep into it, because they’re all friends here, right? No hard feelings? “Sorry about that.”

The Vagabond watches Jeremy, and Jeremy watches him.

Tries not to think about the stories he’s head about the guy, even though Jeremy knows how rumors gt in this city. One percent truth to ninety-nine percent pure bullshit, but the thing with the Vagabond is just that one percent slice of truth is terrifying no matter which one you think it is.

Matt’s got a sniper rifle and a good angle on things, but it would be great if it didn’t come down to that.

Mostly since Jeremy would really like it is no one dies here – himself, Matt, the Vagabond – because that would just kind of suck. (Kick off things that won’t end well for anyone.)

“I gassed her up for you,” he says, like that’s going to win him any points here. “Topped off the wiper fluid.”

He sounds like an idiot, but that’s fine because he is an idiot.

Th Vagabond cocks his head, and Jeremy’s heart-rate kicks up a notch. There’s just something. It's fucking intimidating, is what it is. Just that small movement and Jeremy wishes he had his gun in his hands, a wall at his back. (Matt as far away from here as he can get.)

“Considerate of you,” the Vagabond says, sounding like he’s wondering how many teeth he’s going to have to pull before Jeremy spills everything he knows, or if he should just go straight for breaking bones for efficiency's sake.

“Well, you know,” Jeremy says. “It was my fuckup.”

The Vagabond makes this thoughtful noise, and he doesn’t move, but by God is he looming.

And then he looks past Jeremy, right at where Matt’s hidden.

“Yeah,” he says, draws the word out for that extra bit of drama as he drags his gaze back to Jeremy. “It was.”

Jeremy hears Matt’s quiet _“Uh-oh,”_ through his earpiece crystal clear because Matt’s particular about the equipment he puts in the field.

========

The Vagabond didn’t, contrary to Matt’s request, come alone.

Actually brought a sniper of his own. Skinny guy with this smug little smirk on his face when he catches Jeremy watching him.

“You’re lucky, you know,” he says, making sure the zip ties on Jeremy’s wrists aren’t uncomfortably tight. British accent and this note of amusement in his voice. “Bastard shot me when we met, and I didn’t even nick his damn car.”

Jeremy leans away from him, because there’s something vaguely unsettling about the guy. 

“It was just a graze,” The Vagabond says, hand around Matt’s arm as he pushes him to stand next to Jeremy. “Stop whining about it, it’s been years.”

The guy snorts, shooting Jeremy this _look_ , like he thinks Jeremy’s going to side with him.

“You still shot me, you lunatic! Why in the world would I not be upset about that no matter how long it’s been?”

The worst thing is that Jeremy actually is on his side about that, because really.

And the Vagabond, alright, the Vagabond sighs, like he cannot fathom why his buddy is so upset about being shot.

“He’s got a point,” Matt says, because Matt is clearly insane. 

The Vagabond looks at Matt, and with the mask it’s impossible to see the look on his face, but his body language is a little easier to read. 

“Hey!” Jeremy says, relieved when the Vagabond’s attention shifts back to him. “Not to be rude, but what now?”

Zip-tied in a construction site by the Vagabond and his buddy and it’s either the plot for some crappy made for television movie or a blurb in the paper after their bodies are found.

“You did steal my car,” the Vagabond says, watching Jeremy. “Can’t really let that go. Bad for my reputation.”

That’s – yeah. Good point, there.

“Okay,” Jeremy says, ignoring the way Matt’s watching him. “But he didn't have anything to do with it, so.”

The Vagabond looks at Matt.

“True,” he says, “but he had a sniper rifle aimed at my head.”

Jeremy winces, because both of those things are true.

“You car pulls to the right,” Matt says, because in addition to being insane, he’s also an asshole who doesn’t seem to get that Jeremy’s trying to get him out of this alive. “Also, fuck you, dipshit.”

That last part’s directed at Jeremy thankfully.

“What did you just call me?” 

Matt raises his eyebrows like he can’t believe Jeremy somehow misheard since he was speaking so clearly. 

“I called you a dipshit, dipshit,” he says, and, oh, he’s angry. The kind that’s honestly a little scary because Matt’s usually so easy-going. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

What does Jeremy think he’s doing.

Jeremy stares at Matt.

_What_ does Jeremy think he’s doing?

This idiot he met working for a shitty little crew a while back.

What _does_ Jeremy think he’s doing?

So fucking smart it hurts, and too much of a smartass to survive for long in a city like this without someone watching his back. 

What does _Jeremy_ think he’s doing?

This stupid bastard who went and twisted Jeremy up about him for the longest time until he realized what the fuck it all meant.

What does Jeremy _think_ he’s doing?

Fucking hell, he doesn’t know anymore. Just wanted to keep Matt safe, but the fucker’s been fighting him on that from the beginning.

What does Jeremy think _he’s_ doing?

Getting Matt killed, the way he was afraid he would all this time.

What does Jeremy think he’s _doing_?

The Vagabond and his buddy have been watching the two of them closely. Don’t really seem to know what to make of the pair of them bickering like an old married couple. 

Which is fair, as Jeremy doesn’t think that’s how most people acts when faced with the two of them.

“Can I shoot him?” Jeremy asks, turning away from Matt to direct his question at the Vagabond. “Seriously, please let me shoot him, I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Jeremy ignores Matt’s indignant sputtering, the glare he can feel on the side of his face. Just looks at the Vagabond because he knows he’s going to break if he looks at Matt.

“Something is very wrong with both of you,” the Vagabond says after a long moment.

Jeremy snorts. 

“Says the guy in the fucking mask,” he mutters, because there’s no point to playing mild and meek when he and Matt are obviously going to die here. 

The Vagabond stiffens, and Jeremy’s eyes snap to his buddy who is trying to stifle his laughter and failing badly.

“Gavin - “

The Vagabond’s going for stern, but there’s too much resignation in it to really sell it. Sounds too much like he knows there’s no hope of getting Gavin to stop laughing at him, and honestly, that’s a little too relatable.

“Oh come off it,” Gavin says, rolls his eyes. “You know you’re not going to kill them.”

That’s news to Jeremy. (Not unwelcome, though.)

The Vagabond doesn’t sigh, but it’s close.

“Just don’t - “ the Vagabond says, flapping a hand at his car like a kid who’s had a bad day and wants nothing more than to just go home already. “Don’t do it again.”

Jeremy has no idea what’s going on, but figures he can do that. Make sure the others don’t do it, really, because they’re troublemakers. Maybe he can get Matt to set up a presentation of the known cars of the Fake AH Crew so they don’t end up in this position again.

“That sounds reasonable,” Matt says, skeptical as all hell because it sounds a little too good to be true. “We can probably do that.”

Jeremy -

Okay, Jeremy will let him have that one because he’s right. There’s a very good chance one of the others will prove to be a complete idiot and it’s going to get them all horribly murdered, but hey, future problem.

Gavin snorts, sliding a look to the Vagabond.

“Satisfied?” he asks, and reaches over to plucks a knife off the Vagabond that he sets on the ground in front of Jeremy and Matt. “I’m sure you lads can get yourselves home.”

And then he walks off towards the purple FMJ parked beside the Vagabond’s car.

Jeremy blinks, looking down at the knife and up to the Vagabond who -

He’s not quite as menacing anymore, looks more like some poor, long-suffering bastard as he meets Jeremy’s eyes.

Still.

“Keep a closer eye on what your people do,” he says, and Jeremy’s blood goes cold because he _knows_. “Other people might not be so forgiving.”

Other people would have killed them all, Jeremy knows. Come out here to get information out of the two of them and gone back to the warehouse slaughter the others, leave a message, make a statement.

Matt moves closer, shoulder bumping Jeremy’s and the Vagabond shakes his head as he follows Gavin to the car.

They watch the two of them leave, still not entirely convinced it’s not some twisted trap. That there are others waiting in the shadows for the Vagabond and Gavin to leave to put a bullet n their heads.

Or maybe that’s just Jeremy, because Matt goes for the knife the minute the car’s out of sight. Fumbling with it, but the Vagabond was kind enough to secure his hands in front of him, while Jeremy’s are pulled behind his back.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” Matt says, in a too-mild tone of voice as he pushes and nudges Jeremy until he turns to let him get at the zip-ties. “The fuck were you thinking?”

Jeremy closes his eyes as he lets Matt’s rant wash over him. All the ways Jeremy’s an idiot for trying to keep Matt _safe_. Keep him from coming out here with Jeremy and if the Vagabond had been in a less generous mood, fucking murdered.

Jeremy flexes his hands when Matt gets the zip-ties off, and opens his eyes to check out the damage. Red marks on his wrist from trying to get out of the damn things in vain, but the skin isn’t broken and somehow they’re both still alive.

“Are you listening to me?” Matt asks.

Jeremy takes the knife from Matt and looks at him.

This moron that’s too damn brave for his own good and scowling at Jeremy like he's the idiots here. The only one Jeremy’s bothered to listen to since he ended up in Los Santos, the only one who mattered enough _to_ listen to.

“Sorry, what? Were you saying something, Matt?”

Matt makes this aggravated noise in his throat, sounds like a fucking Muppet, and Jeremy can’t keep it together, just breaks down and laughs like an idiot while Matt glares at him.

========

There’s a letter waiting for them when they get back to the warehouse. Pinned to the side door with a knife that matches the one Gavin left them with.

“Well, fuck,” Matt says, like he’s just realizing how in over their heads they were with this whole situation from the start. 

It’s the usual thing you’d expect. They're being watched, fuck up again they won’t go so easy on them, and so on.

“Nice,” Matt says, like this isn’t the most terrifying thing to happen to them in their lives, having this kind of attention when they're still nobodies. 

“Yeah, it’s awesome,” Jeremy says, thinking about how great it was before anyone in this city knew who they were. “No possible way this is going to come back to bite us on the ass.”

Matt crumples the note up like and tosses it aside like an animal.

“Oh, yeah, of course not” he says, and goes inside like everything's hunky dory and there really isn’t anything to worry about, life is great.

“Fucking hell,” Jeremy mutter, and follows him because what else is he going to do?


End file.
